To me there is something magical about boxing; but only if it involves no violence. I mean, I detest any violence dished out (either by the participants or the spectators) in the name of entertainment. I have been a fan of professional boxing (and continue to be to this day) and see worthy contests as when time permits. But it is the no holds barred contests (like some Ultimate Fighting Championships) where the participants take all kinds of risks just so we, the spectators are entertained; that I hate.

The sponsors, the promoters, the event organizers all collect fat checks and the advertisers, the media benefit immensely, while the participants end up as casualties for life. Even if the injured sportsmen take home big money, what good money is to them if they are paralyzed waist down (say due to some injury to their spinal cord or suffer irreparable head injury) and had to move about in a wheel chair or sip food through a tube?

I am not exaggerating. I saw one kick boxing contest where one of the kick boxer’s shin bone broke into two (due to either the shock of the kick he gave or received) and hung like a broken twig from the rest of his leg. I couldn’t bear to see it and stopped watching kick boxing ever since. One may argue that, after all the participants participate voluntarily and are fully aware of the risks involved and so what harm is caused in organizing the show? Nelson Mandela has an active interest in professional boxing but at the same time strongly believes in non-violence. When he was asked if there is any conflict between the two, his answer was the same.

However, if one of the unequal participants induced by big prize money fights and ends up being carried away in a stretcher, is it voluntary? But at least most of the times in boxing, there is this referee who steps in to save the severely injured boxer from himself. And the stupid boxer returns the favor by trying to knock down the referee himself for stopping the fight.

I don’t want to sound like Lisa in ‘The Simpsons’, advocating vegetarianism, while rest of the party enjoys a hearty meal of the wild boar. But if we, the spectators are in it to vent our male aggression (remember the movie Fight Club) or driven by greed by betting heavily against one or the other player, then we need to check our motives.

I mean how far are we removed from the Romans watching the blood sports in the arena with glee. Russell Crowe in Gladiator comes to my mind. After annihilating his enemy he turns to the spectators with equal rage and asks, “Are you entertained now?”. To me, at the end of the match, if we leave the stadium even with a little guilt, than it is not a sport.

If you ask me to be more specific and lay it out in clear terms (what is magical about boxing other than the boxers blowing their brains out?) hear is my answer:

• To me more than the fight itself, the prelude that leads up to the fight that is magical. The stadium, the lighting, the assemblage of the VIPs accompanied by their beautiful female counterparts, the spectators with flags to show their solidarity, the statistics of the contestants (impressive both by themselves and taken together),the rigor they had gone through prior to the fight shown as flashback, the locker room briefings, the announcer’s (the undisputed champion Michael Buffer’s) commanding voice about the ensuing fight, the arrival of the boxers in glittering costume, followed by their respective entourage carrying their medals, their chosen music played out as they arrive, all go to create an expectation of an outcome that is magical. We tend to believe that this really is going to be the fight of the century and we got our value for money even though we may watch it for free over the TV.
• As the fight progresses there is a momentary disappointment in us that the fight is not going as we have predicted. We see our limitations as amateurs exposed, with the minute to minute ring side view provided by the commentators (who can substitute an ace like Jim Lampley), the expert commentary provided by an ex boxer or a seasoned coach (like Emmanuel Stewart) and the insightful, often witty remarks of a sage like Larry Merchant (now that he has retired, we miss him). All these go together, to make the event magical.
• Finally at the end of a good, clean fight (by clean I mean neither contestant is greatly harmed and the referee has done a great job) the boxers give their reasons as to why they have lost or won, the strategy they adopted and if they are ready to take a rematch etc all these go to make it magical.

We realize almost the entire event is carried out spur of the moment and none of it can be rehearsed in advance and that is what is makes it magical.

Finally as we leave, we prepare ourselves for the next fight of the millennium and isn’t that expectation magical?